


I Could Fall for You a Thousand Times

by Kitskune_Miyake



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Percy Jackson Fusion, Alternate Universe - Police, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, M/M, do I even want to bother listing them?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-25
Updated: 2014-12-24
Packaged: 2018-03-03 10:17:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2847425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kitskune_Miyake/pseuds/Kitskune_Miyake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I should be sick of seeing the same two losers fall in love a thousand times, yet I'm not.</p><p>---------</p><p>A mage casts a spell, binding his soul to his prince in all times and worlds until they can happily be together. Cue every alternate universe ever.</p><p>Varying levels of maturity and "triggery-ness," just warning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Could Fall for You a Thousand Times

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Luau](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luau/gifts).



> Merry Christmas, Leah! Hope you enjoy (more notes at the bottom).

_When two hearts are meant for each other, no distance is too far, no time is too long, and no love can break them apart._

* * *

Acrid smoke filled Oikawa's lungs as he stumbled into the rubble-filled chaos of the hall toward the main hall. He had to find Prince Imaizumi, make sure he was alright. He cursed under his breath. That damned Prince Ushijima from the neighboring kingdom of Shiratorizawa had betrayed the terms of the treaty and attacked in this time of armistice. He felt the ground rumble underneath him. Oikawa suspected that the attacking mages had released another volley of fireballs.

"Imaizumi! Prince Imaizumi!" His voice was hoarse as he turned the corner. The Prince was a fighter and would not tolerate seeing his house under attack. He feared that Imaizumi was out in the field, challenging Shiratorizawa's army personally.

"Oikawa?" he heard a feeble voice call. He ran towards the sound, a faint hope in his heart that it was Imaizumi.

"I'm here!" he cried out. He coughed, choking on the smoke filling the besieged castle. He dropped to his knees and started crawling towards the noise. "I'm here," he repeated, his voice fading into the chaos of the situation. He felt himself bump into something--no, someone. "Imaizumi!"

"Yes, yes, what?"

Oikawa smiled. He had found his Prince. He threw his arms around him. "Thank the gods you're alright." He coughed, the bitter smell of the gas lingering on his tongue. "We've gotta get out of here. Come this way, there's a path--"

"Not until I make sure my subjects are out as well." Dammit, he was stubborn. So stubbornly good to people.

"It'll go faster if I help you," Oikawa decided, pulling himself up.

"You're a civilian too."

"I'm a Mage. I think that makes me a little stronger than you."

"Feh. Be that way." Despite the irritated words, Oikawa could hear gratitude. Silly Iwaizumi, always so unwilling to show affection.

The two went together, Oikawa with his life-detective spell speeding up the search. The ground rumbled under their feet, the tremors getting stronger. Ushijima was getting closer. Together they found Kunimi, Kindaichi, and the rest of the serfs in the castle, ushering them quickly to the secret passage under the castle.

"You next," Iwaizumi insisted.

"And where the hell do you think you're going?" Despite the very likely potential of death hanging above their heads, Oikawa took the time to be offended properly, arms akimbo and hip cocked to the side slightly. Rude and arrogant as the gesture was, it was the only appropriate response, in his opinion.

"You need to get out of here."

"I'm not leaving you."

"Dammit, Oikawa, can't you see that I'm doing this because I love you!" In that moment, fireballs cascading unto the palace, earthquakes rumbling under their feet, screams of people fleeing the castle echoing outside, Oikawa wanted nothing more than to reach out to his prince and kiss him. Long story short, the two were in love, knew of each others' feelings, and never once said anything about them. It wasn't proper, not for their rank or at any private moment. But now, with the world crashing down around them, it seemed right.

"And I'm doing this because I love you too. I'm not leaving you," he insisted back. He heard a sharp crack echo from another part of the castle. "Shit, Ushijima broke through. We don't have much time."

"I just want you to be safe," Iwaizumi admitted softly, his eyes averted. It seemed wrong for their relationship to progress so much in these few seconds, but a few seconds was all they had.

"And I want you to depend on me," Oikawa replied. He gently touched the prince's arm, yet another break in class roles. He leaned forward, and amid the sounds of a battlefield, kissed Iwaizumi gently. They couldn't happen, not here, not now, not the way things were, and they both knew it.

Iwaizumi broke the kiss first, turning towards the entrance. "He's here. I have to challenge him."

"Even if you survive--"

"After I survive," Iwaizumi corrected.

"We can't... I mean... it wouldn't be proper."

"I know."

"Let me bind my soul to yours."

"I--what?"

"So that through all times, all places, all reincarnations I will always find you until we can happily be together."

"Oikawa--"

"There you are." Iwaizumi felt his blood curdle. "The little prince and his magic bitch too."

"King Ushijima," Iwaizumi replied calmly. It was completely unlike the hot-tempered Iwaizumi that playfully batted at Oikawa's more-than-amicable gestures. This was Prince Iwaizumi, true heir to the throne of Seijoh.

"Take the mage," Ushijima insisted. "He's still useful."

Iwaizumi said nothing, stepping in front of Oikawa between him and the demon prince before them. "As fucking if I'd let you have him."

"Disgusting," Ushijima sneered, his lip curling distastefully. "You and your emotions aren’t fit to be king." He broke eye contact with Iwaizumi for a moment, laying his eyes on Oikawa. Almost faster than the eye could perceive, something shot out of his arm at him. It impaled with a satisfying thunk.

"MY LORD!" Oikawa cried as Iwaizumi dropped to the ground. Oikawa followed suit, his hands gently palpating the wound in an attempt to stop the bleeding. He tore off some of his cloak, scrabbling to wrap the wound. He could feel blood seeping through, staining his fingertips. He muttered hurriedly a healing spell, but the dancing threads of gold light were too slow, too late.

“Do it,” Iwaizumi croaked out. His voice was feeble, almost unheard. Oikawa nodded slightly, pressing his forehead to Iwaizumi’s knuckles. His voice grew stronger as he spat out the spell, words that he needed to say, words that couldn’t be said in this lifetime.

“It is done, my lord,” he finally said, the spell coming to an end. No response. He was already dead.

“What’s done, mage?” Ushijima replied in his place.

Oikawa felt bile burn in his throat. “You, bitch.” He spoke one last word, bringing the castle down around all of them. He died, his body thrown over the last prince of Seijoh. It was done.

* * *

“Watch me, watch me, Iwa-chan!” Oikawa laughed. He clicked the heels of his Converse shoes together, and little wings popped out. “Aren’t they cool? Dad got them for me.” Iwaizumi seemed unimpressed--no, distracted. Oikawa pouted and levitated a little. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” No insult, no backlash. There was definitely something wrong.

“Is it because you haven’t been claimed yet? That’s alright! Hermes cabin will definitely adopt--”   
‘That’s not it!” he snapped. He curled against his knees. “I just… never mind.” He stared at the lake, unwilling to meet his friend’s eyes.

Oikawa plopped down next to him, hip touching hip. “Iwa-chan?”

“I was actually claimed this morning. And I got a quest to top it all off.”

“That’s great!”

“No, it isn’t. I--” He cut off, unwilling to reveal more. “Never mind.”

“You can’t keep cutting me off like this, Iwa-chan.” Oikawa threw his arm around his friend. They had only known each other a few summers, only seeing each other for a few weeks per year, but he already felt like the other boy was his best friend, even family. “I’m going with you, right?”

“Fuck off.”

“I’m serious.”

“Me too. I can’t. It’s a solo quest. I leave tomorrow morning.”

The two sat in silence, their amicable physical contact speaking more honestly than the snake-tongued boy and the stoic one usually did. It was suffocating, almost too much.

“You’ll bring me back a souvenir, right? Because I always bring you souvenirs from my trips.”

Iwaizumi pulled away slightly and butted Oikawa with his head. “You’re insufferable.”

Oikawa mimicked the gesture. “Love you too.” He was only half-joking, but he wouldn’t let that on. Iwa-chan had enough on his plate to worry about.

The next morning he saw off his best friend from the hilltop marking the entrance of Camp Half-Blood. He watched as Iwaizumi disappeared into the dawn light. He never saw him again.

* * *

As much of a party-kid as he  pretended to be, Oikawa was actually a morning person. Years of getting up for morning volleyball practices or late night studying made him immune to the Mondays and the early-day grumpiness that seemed to plague everyone at his 8 A.M. class. He was studiously setting up his laptop to take his notes when he heard something akin to a truck crash into the seat next to him with a thermos of coffee and a hastily put-together bag.

Oikawa watched in a combination of amazement and horror as the boy proceeded to pull a can of Monster Energy Drink out of his bag, pour it into the thermos, and turn to him. “I’m gonna fucking die.” And without breaking eye contact, he took the thermos and drained the entire thing down his throat. He didn’t learn the other guy’s name, but he couldn’t stop thinking about the incident. Two hours later, the lecture was over, and the two parted ways.

A few hours later, Oikawa was accosted by a volleyball. Well, almost accosted. He threw his hands in front of his face and returned the ball in with a perfect set. “Hey, do you wanna play?”

It was just after lunch, and his next class was in a couple of hours. “Sure, why not?”

He took a quick overview of his team. Two guys, one girl. The other team had four people as well, including a certain caffeine time bomb. “Hey, you’re the guy from earlier!” he said, pointing across the net.

“Wha-- oh, you’re in my 8 A.M.” He smirked. “Nice toss, but I doubt you’ll beat me.”

“It isn’t good to underestimate strangers, now is it?”

Thus began the most intense game of volleyball that college quad had ever experienced. The cheap net they had set up somehow managed to survive the first set fairly unharmed, but the second set threatened to destroy it. Oikawa grinned like a maniac. He hadn’t played a game so hard since…

Since…

“Oikawa!” He reflexively set his hands in front of his face. The receive had barely connected, and the ball hit his fingers hard. He flinched slightly as the ball sprang upward into yet another set. The girl spiked hard into the other side, scoring the winning point. As victory high-fives went around, Oikawa rolled his wrist a little. Damn, still hurt.

“You’re pretty good for a freshman,” one of the upperclassmen on the other side of the net complimented. “Ever consider trying out for the team? They’re pretty good, and some of them even get scouted into the Olympics.”

“Ah, sorry. I want to see how this semester goes. Don’t want to overcommit myself.” The lie rolled easily off his tongue, leaving a bad taste in his mouth as it left. They were all strangers at best; they didn’t need to know about high school.

“Shame, we would have loved to have you on our team. Shit, it’s nearly one. I’ve gotta get to class” They started packing up the net, the conversation essentially closed.

As Oikawa walked away, he was stopped by the Monster and Coffee guy. “You seem really familiar. Do I know you from somewhere?”

“Your 8 A.M.? Oikawa Tooru, at your service, I guess.”

“Iwaizumi Hajime. See you, I guess.” He walked away towards the science building. Although he wasn’t sure why, Oikawa felt like he would be seeing him later.

Oikawa woke up at 7 sharp. He left some cereal for the other guy and went for a morning jog. As if to torture himself, he walked past the athletic center, where the school’s elite volleyball team was practicing. God, he missed it so much.

“Shit dammit, I’m late.” It was Iwaizumi, the very un-morning person. He almost ran into Oikawa, who barely sidestepped out of the way. “Sorry,” he muttered in reply. He looked up. “Hey, you’re that guy from yesterday. Oikawa, right?”

“You didn’t strike me as a morning person.”

“You’re right, I’m not. But I like volleyball enough to be here. Why are you here?”

“I--” but he didn’t have a good excuse, not without a 2 A.M. drinking session where he would drunkenly blabber about that goddamn accident that ended his volleyball career over something that shouldn’t have been so consequential. Didn’t matter anyways. Iwaizumi had gone into the gym.

They didn’t have class together that day. The noises from the volleyball court plagued him all day, rehashing the nasty memories of his last summer. On impulse, he went to the convenience store and bought a case of beer. It was too damn early in the school year to succumb to alcohol, but it had worked while he was in high school, so he didn’t particularly care.

Oikawa heard a knock on his door that night as he got piss drunk. It was none other than Iwaizumi. “My roommate brought a girl over, can I spend the night?”

“How did you get my room number?” His words were less slurred than he expected, but he leaned tentatively on the door frame.

“I didn’t. I live next door.” He heard a thump from neighboring room. Oh.

“Well, come in, I guess.” He started for the closet in search of a spare blanket or something that could serve as a blanket. Iwaizumi eyed the empty cans suspiciously. “You can have some if you want.”

“Actually, can I talk to you about something?”

“Aren’t we doing that already?”

“I know where I know you from.” Oikawa felt a chill run down his spine, but he betrayed none of his anxiety. Shit, he knew. “You were a volleyball player. They featured you in that magazine last summer.”

“Well then, you know the full story, don’t you?” he spat bitterly. “The famous Oikawa Tooru of Aobaseijoh, broken wrists, broken dreams. Do you know how I broke my wrists?”

“Not really, but I heard from some of the other schools--”

“Then you know. Aren’t you afraid, Iwaizumi-kun?” He got up close, practically nose to nose. The rumours had spread, and even leaving the prefecture for college allowed him to abandon the stigma. “Aren’t you afraid to be in the same room as a ‘useless faggot’?”

Iwaizumi took a step back before his face twisted in anger. He punched Oikawa in the face, knocking him flat on his butt. “You’re really fucking stupid, you know that? Even if they cared that you were gay, what does it matter to me?”

Oikawa grabbed his wrist, using Iwaizumi’s sober, standing body to pull himself up. “Well, it matters apparently. No one wants to play volleyball with a guy who looks at guys. But since you don’t care, it doesn’t matter if I do this, does it?” He sloppily pressed his lips against Iwaizumi’s, his hands releasing his wrists in search of other places to hold.

Iwaizumi didn't move, simply let Oikawa move his hands over him. "You're drunk."

"You're damn right I'm drunk!" Oikawa yelled, slamming his fist into Iwaizumi's hard, chiseled chest. It had been so long since he felt another body under his like this. He started to cry. "It's so fucking lonely."

"You should probably go to sleep." Iwaizumi kicked him behind his knees, and the already unsteady Oikawa fell readily into his arms. They were warm, and he snuggled into the warmth like a little cat.

He decided to chat as Iwaizumi tucked him into bed. "You don't seem good at this emotional stuff."

"I'm not too good with words in the first place."

"No words then. Hold me tonight."

"I'm not gay."

"I can change that. Fuck me."

"Good night." Iwaizumi left the room. He heard the opening and closing of his front door.

Oikawa will vouch that there is nothing worse than lying in your dorm listening to two strangers have sex after reinforcing your own loneliness with a hot stranger. The next day, he had a splitting headache, and Iwaizumi didn't sit next to him. He threw his head on top of his notebook and groaned loudly. He had really fucked up.

* * *

The worst way to get to know someone is when they start crying on your head as you give them a blowjob, Oikawa decided.

Generally regarded as a no-future brat who had become a model and had been dropped from the industry as soon as his image was considered unfashionable, Oikawa had been scraping a day to day living as… well, he wouldn’t call it prostitution, because he never went all the way. And it wasn’t really escort services. More like, he blew a few friends to pay rent and now they bring a few other people every now and then. All for pay, of course. He had to make rent somehow.

This new guy was brought in by one of his former senpai in high school. Apparently his name was Iwaizumi and he just needed the best blowjob of his life. Seeing as that was Oikawa’s specialty, he was not expecting the droplets that hit the back of his neck. If it weren’t for the fact that there was a choking hazard in his mouth, he probably would have reacted more dramatically than just stopping and pulling off.

“Sorry,” he sorta heard Iwaizumi mumble.

“You know, for a guy who gives blowjobs to make rent, I don’t like being used as some kind of emotional cure to heartbreak. There’s heartbreak involved, isn’t there?” This was just sad now. Here he was, comforting a crying guy with the mouth that was just on his dick. He should get an award for shit like this.

“Uh, I know I’m not exactly the best for relationship advice, but do you maybe want to talk about it? Like, did you and your girlfriend have some issues? Also, would you mind putting your dick back in your pants? I don’t feel comfortable touching it now.”

“Sorry about this. I shouldn’t have agreed to this.” He reached into his pocket. Right, he hadn’t paid yet.

“Don’t worry about it.” The words slipped out of his mouth before he could stop them. Wait, what? He still needed to eat. “Just buy me lunch and we can talk.”

Oikawa got the full story over some cheap American fast food. Apparently he was having a sexuality crisis after a drunken encounter and needed to verify that it was an alcohol-induced incident and not an irregularity in his sexuality. Oikawa laughed. Hard. He got punched in the face. Hard. But he apologized, albeit grudgingly, and actually listened to Oikawa’s advice: don’t sweat the details too much and be upfront with her about the incident. She didn’t need to hear it from someone else. They ended up changing the uncomfortable topic to something more lighthearted, and in the end pretended as if Oikawa didn’t try to suck his dick.

They left the restaurant after about an hour. Iwaizumi seemed like a cool guy, despite being way too unsure about relationships. And despite it all, he asked Oikawa to help him with this mystery girl. He agreed. It was nice to be helpful once in a while. He continued sucking dicks--none of which were Iwaizumi’s--while serving as a part-time love coach. As he and Iwaizumi grew closer, the relationship between Iwaizumi and his girlfriend became better and better. It was too late when he realized that he had fallen for the only guy to cry on him during a blowjob. Hard

* * *

Iwaizumi did not like pricks, and Oikawa Tooru was the epitome of prickish-ness, which completely contradicted the fact that he agreed to work this stakeout with him.

The two cops were watching from the top of a building overlooking a street famous for its illicit dealings and rampant lawlessness. For the most part, the police department had given up on redeeming Hell’s Tracks, the local nickname for the stretch lying beneath them. The only ones left were the two watching the street, and they couldn’t stand each other. Despite their intolerance, they still were one of the best duos in the city, accomplishing their duties with as few deaths as possible.

“Iwa-chan, do you have a girlfriend?” God, again with that stupid nickname.

“Focus, dumbass.”

“That doesn’t answer the question at all.” He pouted. Grown men should not pout. What the hell.

“No. Happy?”

“Yes.” There was silence for a moment. Iwaizumi felt the urge to reciprocate. Oikawa always seemed to have that influence, to make him talk even when he didn’t want to talk.

“What about you?”

“I actually bat for the other team, if you catch my drift,” Oikawa replied cooly, raising his eyebrows suggestively. Fuck this guy, really. Except not literally, because he’d probably like that. Iwaizumi shook his head clear; he needed to focus on the task at hand.

They waited for hours, watching, waiting. There was supposedly a huge arms deal between the Russians and one of the larger city gangs. They were supposed to call for backup as soon as anything happened and engage once backup was called. Needless to say, when push came to shove and the shit hit the fan, Oikawa jumped straight into action, leaving Iwaizumi to chase after him into a full-blown shootout.

“You’re a real dumbass, Oikawa,” Iwaizumi called over the barrage of shots as they ducked behind the building. “I hope you’re happy.”

“Are you kidding? This is the best part!” He couldn’t tell if the fucker was kidding or not. He was getting too damn old for shit like this.

“You’re fucking insane.”

“Love you too.”

* * *

“Iwa-chan, Iwa-chan!” Oikawa ran up to Iwaizumi, practically exuding energy. “I did it!”

“What?” Iwaizumi was irritable--nothing out of the ordinary, but this irritation was due to exams. Volleyball ate up so much of his intended study time, but he wouldn’t trade it for anything. It was nice being able to still play with Oikawa, though he’d rather die than admit that.

“The Olympic tryout. They’re offering me the chance to try out.” It wasn’t Oikawa’s shit-eating grin, but an honest-to-God smile, the ones that Iwaizumi loved the most.

Wait.

“Olympics?”

“God, it’s everything I’ve dreamed about. Me. They want me.” He was starry-eyed, his hands shaking with the letter. And Iwaizumi couldn’t just shatter his hopes by being that dick and saying he didn’t want Oikawa to leave just because of feelings. He mentally slapped himself. He had to be the good friend.

"That's great," he told his friend. Oikawa beamed and threw his arms around Iwaizumi, who usually had a strict no-contact policy in school. The two had a virulent relationship at best, yet it was undeniable that the two were best friends. But lately, Iwaizumi had been having… more than friendly feelings, to say the least. Not only did he not mind Oikawa’s contact, but he even craved the hand on his shoulder, the half-sincere smile that concealed another message intended for him, the borderline flirtatious gestures that had peppered their relationship for years now.

But he couldn’t make the leap forward, take the next step. For him, it wouldn’t be a big step, all things considered. But he couldn’t. He had stood through every relationship with Oikawa and watched his friend’s admitted selfishness and bad attitude ruin things. And as much as he… as important Oikawa was to him, he didn’t want to lose him. Which meant not stepping forward and making that shoujo-esque confession, not making selfish claims like “Please don’t leave me” and “I don’t want you to go” and “Stay.”

He couldn’t focus at all during volleyball. All he could do was watch Oikawa make these amazing sets and serves and think that they would maybe be on the Olympics one day, leading to a wave of guilt at being so selfish as to want to keep Oikawa to himself like that.

The sun was setting when practice ended. As he helped take down the net, Oikawa called him over. “Iwa-chan, come with me. I wanna show you something.”

He wanted to say no, wanted to go home and ignore his studies and sleep until he forgot that Oikawa was leaving. And as much as his heart and brain were telling him no, he heard himself say, “Whatever,” which was Iwaizumi-speak for “Yes.” As if he could say no to Oikawa’s tired yet energetic eyes.

They didn’t speak as they walked from the school. He had no idea where they were going, but he enjoyed the silence next to Oikawa without looking at him. Instead he looked at the sun and the sky, it’s colors changing from yellows and oranges to an intense purple and finally settling on the dark midnight blue.

The stars came out when they reached their destination. It was a playground. “Why are we here?”

“Push me on the swing,” Oikawa insisted. He ran from Iwaizumi’s side and plopped into the swing. He barely fit

“You fucking dragged me out here to play on the swings?” he replied irritably. But he got behind Oikawa and pushed him, gently at first then slowly harder until he finally just gave up and pushed Oikawa out of the swing.

Oikawa didn’t resist the fall and landed firmly on his face. He rolled over and laughed. Iwaizumi wondered what the hell was wrong with him. “Aha, Iwaizumi, you never change.”

“Hm?”

“Remember? This is where we met.” Oikawa let out a nostalgic sigh, his eyes reflecting the moon. “I had just moved in and I told you to push me on the swing, so you pushed me out. Man, you were always so bad-tempered, Iwa-chan.”

“You were always such a jerk,” Iwaizumi retorted automatically.

“Yeah.” Oikawa closed his eyes and exhaled deeply before opening them again. “Don’t change. Y’know, when I leave.”

“Can’t promise that.”

“Iwa-chan, come on. I’m serious. I mean, what if I leave and you’re completely different and impossible to talk to?”

“Then don’t leave!” he blurted out. The thought had been on his mind all day, perfectly dammed behind a wall of stoicism, but this one crack in his resolve opened the door, and all the thoughts he had kept away were escaping his mouth. “I don’t want you to go, and I know it’s selfish, but I don’t want you to leave. I thought the team was important enough for you to stay. I thought if… if I wanted to play with you that it would be enough.”

As soon as he was done, he wished he could take it all back. Hearing them out loud and unfiltered like that made him feel so selfish and sick to his stomach. “Shit, forget I said all that. Just go to those tryouts in the city and--”

“Iwa-chan.” Oikawa waved his arms on the air. “Pull me up.” So he did. As he pulled Oikawa forward, Oikawa leaned forward into it, his lips crashing into Iwaizumi’s face. Out of shock, he didn’t respond and ended up falling backwards, the swing barely catching them. Oikawa moaned into the messy kiss a little, eliciting one from Iwaizumi in return.

“Is it selfish that I’ve just been holding out for you to say something like that? I’ve been wanting to do that for a while.”   
“I--what?”

“I know we can’t exactly be together here in Japan, but… I mean, we’ve practically been married all these years.” He started giggling. “Shit, haven’t been this nervous in a while. Messed up the order of my words.

“Okay, let me restart. So, I know we haven’t dated, but I’ve been in love with you. Like, forever, I think. And I think it’s sorta the same with you. And even though it’s skipping a ton of steps and we can’t do it here, will you marry me?”

Iwaizumi was stunned, unsure how to react. Cold realism being his default response, he said, “We’re in high school.”

“Heh, I messed that up to. I saw this thing that they do in America. They’re called promise rings, and it’s basically like an engagement for people who can’t get married just yet. And I couldn’t afford a real ring but will you… um, wait for me, I guess.” He swung their arms side to side like children. Iwaizumi didn’t even realize that they were still holding hands.

“You’re still going, aren’t you?”

“I’ll be back, I promise. We can always call each other though.”   
“It’s not the same.”

“Geez, can’t you just do the romantic thing and say yes?"

Iwaizumi cracked a grin and muttered, "Whatever." He leaned forward, pressing a kiss to Oikawa's lips, smiling lightly into it as they kissed under the starry sky. He felt like a piece of his soul had been satisfied, the sort of satisfaction that transcended time and space. He couldn't properly explain it and instead decided to ignore it. It sorta made his head hurt. What he did know was that Oikawa Tooru--best friend, potential Olympic volleyball player, and professional pain-in-the-ass--was his.

And really, what more did he need?

**Author's Note:**

> Due to the nature of this set up and the fact that I've got too many ideas and too little time, this is likely to get updated. Maybe not super frequently, but it will. The long and the short is that I ran out of time and I didn't want to further sacrifice the quality. Plus, I had too many ideas, not enough development space, so it all works out, I guess.
> 
> Please leave a review. How am I doing? What do you want me to expand on? Any AUs that you like (knowing that everything ends in sadness)?


End file.
